


Start The Countdown

by SimplyEssa



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Boys In Love, Crying, Depressed Keith (Voltron), Heavy Angst, Keith (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Lance (Voltron) is the best for keith, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, hi im in a mood, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 22:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14724828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyEssa/pseuds/SimplyEssa
Summary: His fingers don't itch, this time, as badly as he wants Lance there with him.





	Start The Countdown

His fingers itch to grab his phone.

He wants to call Lance, wants to ask him to come home so he won't be alone anymore, wants him to come and tell him how much he loves him and be hugged until whatever bad feelings that are lurking inside of him are gone, but Lance is in  _Cuba_ , with his family, and he doesn't have signal where he is- at least, that's what Lance had told him, but maybe he lied-

No.

Why is he even doubting Lance?

Lance would never,  _never_ , lie to him, especially not with something as important as this.

Lance had even invited him, offering to pay for his plane ticket, but Keith had denied because he was still in college, unlike some lucky assholes, and his exams were the week he wanted to go. Lance had tried to change it to a different week, but Keith had stopped him with a smile and a "It's okay, go to Cuba. I'll be fine," even though he knew he wouldn't be. Every time,  _every fucking time_ , after he had exams, his depression would sneak up on him and kidnap him, taking control of his mind and making him think things he  _knows_ isn't true.

Lance knows that, too, but had conceded with a sigh.

And now, here he is, regretting everything and wishing Lance had stayed home so he could have some form of security; some form of comfort that isn't a bunch of blankets and pillows and Lance's old college sweater.

He sniffles, burying his nose into the sweater, trying to pretend that, yes, Lance is here with him and holding him and-

It's not enough, he realizes, as sobs force their way out. He needs Lance, in the flesh. He  _needs him_.

He grabs his phone.

Maybe Lance does have signal, in a restaurant or something.

It rings, and rings, and rings,  _and rings_ , until, finally-

"Hey! I can't come to the phone right now, but if you want, leave a message!"

The beep indicates that the voice mail has started, but Keith can hardly hear it over his sobbing.

"S-s-so-sorry," he says, voice rough and shaky. He hiccups, sniffling. "I- I just... needed... I- I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing the 'end call' button.

He chucks his phone across the room, shame and humiliation burning through him. He  _hates_ making Lance worry, hates making Lance see or hear him like this. He should've just went through it like a big fucking boy.

His phone rings.

He ignores it, sniffling and burying himself into the nest of blankets he's made himself. He wraps his arms around his stomach in a form of a self hug, happy that Lance's sweater is far too big on him.

His voicemail starts up. "Baby, baby, hey, can you pick up? I- I was just calling a cab, I am so sorry I didn't pick up- I was gonna surprise you by coming home early- Please, pick up? Let me know you're okay?"

His fingers don't itch, this time, as badly as he wants Lance there with him.

**Author's Note:**

> HI IM JUST IN A MOOD THIS WEEK DONT MIND MY DEPRESSED WORKS


End file.
